


Why Viktor has No Regrets

by AKAuthor



Series: We Call Everything on the Ice 'Love' [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Body Switch AU, Bodyswap, Humor, Language, M/M, Pranks, Romantic Soulmates, Sweet, Young Victor, bad language, sibling war, victor pranking, young Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAuthor/pseuds/AKAuthor
Summary: Body swap soulmate AU -sixteen year old Viktor is in the middle of getting told off by his mother when he switches with his soulmate. Poor Yuuri. But alls well that ends well and Yuuri thought it was funny too.





	Why Viktor has No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!   
> The 'pepper' scene is quoted and paraphrased from Carl Barron's "A One Ended Stick" check it out! I couldn't resist.

Viktor’s childhood was filled with boredom and delight, often simultaneously. He was the eldest of two, and even with age out of the equation, he was definitely the intelligent one out of him and his sister. This often shocks, considering Viktor’s penchant for airheaded comments and forgetful tendencies. He tells people this, and then they meet his sister and realise that Viktor understands people and school, but Akilina understands money and politics. They both, however, understood movement and music.  
The boredom always struck at home, a modern townhouse in central Saint Petersburg, courtesy of his mother’s significant pay even if it meant she rarely spent quality time with Viktor and Akilina. Viktor would return from the rink, bored from the walk home, and force himself through half of his homework (he was going to be a star figure skater, he didn’t need algebra) before Akilina (younger by twenty minutes) bounced through the door with her dance shoes around her neck and her platinum hair ruffled. At this point, Viktor would sometimes ask her how her lesson was, sometimes just retreat to his room to read through his soulbook (empty) and daydream about meeting his other half. 

Mama told him and Akilina that they would switch bodies with their soulmate before they met, as a way of finding out who they were and getting to know the people they surrounded themselves. Mama, Yekaterina Nikiforova, had switched when she was sixteen, finding herself witnessing an underground fighting ring and wads of cash being counted. She found herself at forty-five with no soulmate and no husband, but no regrets.  
Viktor couldn’t wait, he hoped his heart longed for someone who loved the ice as much as he did, for someone who liked rainy mornings and the soft thudding of snow under winter boots. Someone who drew pictures on fogged windows and liked fluffy dogs.   
Akilina often teased him about his intense desire and attachment to his soulbook, but Viktor maintained that he would be prepared if the switch happened unexpectedly. He wanted his soulmate’s contact details the minute he was back in his own body, come hell or high water- or Yakov berating him about not focussing on his double loop because Viktor felt a little tingle in his stomach (turns out it was the moth Akilina fed him while he slept the night before -Viktor retaliated by filling her shoes with rice bubbles). 

But Viktor, sixteen, was bored. He was sitting at the dinner table next to Akilina, who was snarling furiously about the honey drizzled in her silver hair (thanks to Viktor and a bottle of leave-in-conditioner). Viktor only lent half an ear to his twin’s increasingly disturbing threats of genital annihilation, instead watching Mama scoop helpings of mashed potato and mince onto plates. Mama had changed after Papa died, her eyes lost some of their sparkle, but not all of it. Her smile was a little more weary, tired, after all, soulmates weren’t supposed to live long without each other -the heart just couldn’t stand it. Viktor and Akilina knew she was holding on for them, striving to do her best for her children, but it hurt to watch.   
Back in the present, Viktor watched as Mama sat down, setting a plate in front of each of them and scolding Akilina for her language. Viktor sniggered into his potatoes, always pleased when his twin got in trouble and scowled into her own dinner. He stopped when Mama turned her gaze to him and growled him for the honey incident in the first place. 

But even dinner and a scolding couldn’t rid Viktor of his boredom, he was beginning to think only skating would when an idea came to mind. When Mama went to fetch a mug of tea, he took the pepper canister and tipped a large amount into his hand. 

“Hey, Aki,” he said, drawing his sister’s attention from her mince and broccoli to her brother. Viktor promptly blew the pile of pepper into her cerulean eyes. 

“Ahh! Jesus you fuckhead what was that?! It’s burning!! Oh you cock-socket!” She shrieked, dropping her fork and slamming her palms on the table top. “You rancid bag of dick-tips, Viktor! What are you fucking insane!?” Viktor felt his boredom decrease slightly, as he watched his sister learn not to put push pins under the fitted sheet of his bed. “I can’t see! I’m blind!” She yelled. Viktor hurried to shut her up.

“Shut up you asshole, shut up,” he fanned her face, unsure of what it was supposed to achieve in hindsight. Mama returned in a hurry, assessing the situation and dumping a glass of water on Akilina’s face, rinsing her eyes. A wet towel was then pressed to her daughter’s eyes. 

“What happened?” Mama asked, dripping more water onto the wet towel. Viktor blinked.

“I think she bit her tongue,” he replied. Mama gave him a dry look. 

“That doesn’t look like her tongue, Viktor. What did you do?” She asked again, voice lowering. Viktor mumbled, lowering his head until his silver hair fell into his face. 

“I got the pepper… and put it in my hand… and then blew it into her eyeballs,” he explained. 

“Why?” Mama asked. Viktor shook his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Season them?” Mama sighed, blinked, and opened her mouth to yell, before Viktor found himself floating. 

 

Yuuri Katsuki was ten when he switched with Viktor for the first time. He had been sitting in his room with Vicchan, watching a recorded video of his dance idol Akilina Nikiforova performing a rendition of her brother Viktor’s gold winning free skate. Yuuri had been in love with Akilina’s dancing for four years, since he began ballet and witnessed a dance competition on Minako-sensei’s television set. Akilina had dominated the stage, she owned it and the music that played. Yuuri put all his effort into mimicking how Akilina somehow made the music flow from her, belong to her. And then he discovered her older twin, Viktor.   
Viktor Nikiforov immediately became Yuuri’s favourite, he idolised the skater and his beautiful jumps, turns, and spins so much like his sisters. He dreamed of seeing one of them in person, maybe meeting them and getting a photo. 

And then, in the middle of studying Akilina’s Arch position, he found himself at a foreign dinner table, a plate of steaming mashed potato and mince in front of him, a stalk of half eaten broccoli on an abandoned fork. A swell of excitement flooded his stomach, Yuuri had a soulmate! He awkwardly held his hands out and inspected them, finding them soft and warm, far paler than Yuuri’s own pair back in his bedroom in Japan.   
Japan.  
Where the hell was this dinner table? 

He looked around and focussed to hear what he identified as Russian, a woman’s voice speaking in a tone Yuuri recognized well. His mother used that tone when Mari put dye in one of the baths. She used it when Yuuri baked Mari all-salt-no-sugar biscuits (with his father’s help). 

The woman was average height, light blonde-silver hair in a scruffy bun. She wore a blue apron over dress pants and a green long sleeved shirt. She was also rather angry. Next to her was a teenage girl with completely silver hair (strangely sticky looking in places), eyes red and closed as she yelled in unintelligible Russian. Yuuri shrank back in his chair, unsure of what to do about the angry woman and the crying girl. 

“Uh, not Russian!” Yuuri squeaked, holding his hands up. “English?” He asked nervously. The crying girl stopped yelling and brightly squealed. The woman paused in her yelling and softly asked in English,  
“Have you just switched, sweetheart?” Yuuri nodded, some light coloured hair flopping into his eyes. The woman smiled warmly, bustling around the table much like Yuuri’s own mother did back home. 

“My name is Yekaterina Nikiforova, you can call me Mrs Niki,” she introduced. Yuuri’s heart leapt at her name and he let out an involuntary meep. The girl, tears still dripping down her face, smiled.

“I’m Akilina Nikiforova! Viktor’s sister!” She exclaimed, smiling brightly. Yuuri’s mouth was full of cotton wool.

“Uh… I- my name is Katsuki Yuuri- sorry, Yuuri Katsuki…” he stumbled over his introduction. Mrs Niki smiled and sat down, having fetched a small silver book from somewhere behind Yuuri. 

“I can’t see you, but you sound adorable!” Akilina clapped her hands happily. Yuuri flushed bright red. “Vitya will be so happy! He’s been dreaming of this for years,” she continued, unable to see Yuuri’s reaction. Yuuri almost fell out his chair. 

“What?”

“He’s been dying to switch with his soulmate for ages, he even sleep talks about it,” the girl stated matter-of-factly. Mrs Niki clicked her tongue as she sat down. 

“And how would you know, Akilinka?” The girl raised her eyebrows. 

“No reason. I didn’t do anything,” she answered. Yuuri watched the exchange with amusement. 

“So you don’t know why Vitya’s sheets are ripped and filled with staples? Like he was tucked and stapled into his bed?” Mrs Niki asked, fondly tired. Yuuri giggled while Akilina shrugged. 

 

Yuuri switched back ten minutes later, after a mug of fruity tea and carefully writing down his address so Viktor could contact him. His heart was still beating like a rabbit’s and he might have mentioned a love of dancing to Akilina, who promised a dance as soon as possible. She also promised to make sure Viktor spoke to Yuuri one way or another.

They met in person after a long correspondence at a concert of Akilina’s. Yuuri ran into Viktor, who caught him and recognised him from the photo Yuuri had been coerced into sending. He was tightly hugged and had many sweet Russian words whispered into his ears, trailing along his neck and collar bones. Yuuri was there when Viktor won his last Grand Prix,   
Viktor was there when Yuuri won the next four,   
Yuuri was there when Viktor signed the marriage certificate,  
Viktor was there when Yuuri moaned softly and sweetly, curling into Viktor’s torso in the middle of the night,  
Yuuri was there when Mama Niki passed and Viktor cried into his shoulder for the night next to the phone.


End file.
